Battalion Wars 3
by JJEmpire64
Summary: 03/25/12 UPDATE - Read my profile for an update on this!
1. Prologue

**_PROLOGUE_**

_It has been two years since the last great war, and the events chronicled in _Battalion Wars 2_. _

_Xylvania has been reduced to a pitiful excuse of its former might, and the entire world keeps a careful watch over its mistrustful activity. _

_The people of Xylvania have lost their supposedly unshakable faith in a future of Xylvania wielding a iron fist over all of the lands, and does everything they can to stay alive in the acidic wastes that fills Xylvania. _

_However, just recently, under the ever-watchful eyes of the Alliance Of Nations, a man of Xylvanian heritage was given the rights to become the leader of this dying nation, in hope that this man will guide Xylvania to become a nation of justice and fairness, and cast away its bloody past forever to join the Alliance Of Nations as an equal. _

_Little do they know that appointing this man will be one of the most fatal mistakes ever made…_

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**So, yeah, I have an idea for the storyline of Battalion Wars 3, and I'm wanting to try it out. Chapter 1 is coming soon!**_  
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	2. Mission 1: Pieces Of The Past

**Here's the first chapter. If you spot any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out. **

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_Mission 1: Pieces Of The Past_

**Tundran Territories, Daytime**

**The Wilderness**

Lieutenant Björn glanced around the stuffy opening of the transport copter as he listened to the silence.

The silence was somewhat eerily to him. Even though Xylvania was practically thrown asides to the dogs, its inventors held the same brilliance as did those who preceded before them. The engine that was installed in this transport copter was mainly designed for one purpose only: silent travel.

Perfect for a confidential operation so much like this, but there was one drawback: the copter had to drive at an extremely low speed to allow the engine to exercise its function properly, otherwise it'll overheat, and the copter would plunge down into the world below, claiming all their lives.

Thanks to that single drawback, the trip, which should have taken just a few days on a high-quality copter, was stretched into a week and a half.

Björn's eyes fell on one of the four Xylvanian grunts accompanying him. Due to the length of the trip, only five infantrymen, Björn himself and four decently trained foot soldiers along with the pilot manning the copter's controls, were allowed to participate in this operation, but that cleared up plenty of space in the copter for food, water, and any other necessaries needed to not only achieve their mission's objectives, but to survive the trip to and back.

That is, if they did survive the mission enough to attempt the trip back.

Björn peered out the sphere-shaped window positioned next to him. A massive blizzard limited his vision of the ground below, pounding the forests of Tundra in rushing gales of snow and ice. But they were ready to trek across the wasteland in total concealment; they were in the red-and-white uniforms of Tundran rifle grunts, armed with the famous Kasparov KA-57s that's often found in the possession of the Tundran peasant conscripts.

While a curious man peeking out the window of his warm cabin would assume Björn and his men to be nothing more than a Tundran squad out on their patrol, the disguise can only go so far; if other Tundran soldiers goes further than asking for their identity and unit number, well…the mission just may go downhill from there.

"H'okay," the pilot's voice was heard from up front, "we're getting close to our destination point." The tremor of his voice hinted that the pilot wasn't comfortable being this deep in enemy territory.

"Alright," Björn answered back. "You hear that? Get ready. Make sure your KA-57s are loaded, everyone. You won't regret doing so if we run into resistance."

As he heard the multiple clicks of KA-57s being switched off their safeties, Björn also felt the speed of the copter slowing, and he felt the copter descend for a short moment until a soft thud was heard as much as it was felt.

The ramp slowly swung out, revealing the insides of the forest to them as wisps of snow whipped into the copter.

Björn gestured to the out-stretched ramp: Go go go. The grunts dashed out of the copter and into the snow, falling into stances to shoulder their assault rifles, should someone actually have learned of their presence here.

But as Björn exited the copter, noticing the grunts relaxing themselves from their stances, he figured that the copter engine did its job; they were in Tundran territory, and none of the Tundrans knew.

"Okay," Björn begun to speak to his men, "the place we'd be heading to should be…" He pointed a finger to the direction to his side. "…somewhat east from our current position. Stay low."

A soft chorus of acknowledgments came from the grunts, and Björn marched east, his men falling into step besides him. The snow crunched under his boots as Björn trudged his way around the icy mazes of the forest.

"Sir?" one of the grunts asked Björn with his crisp Xylvanian accent. "What if they take us for actual Tundrans when we arrive?"

"Private," Björn replied, "What do you prefer? Walking through Tundran lands dressed as Xylvanians, or Tundrans?" The private didn't respond. "I thought so. We can reveal our real identities once we find them. And boy, get rid of that accent. You're supposed to be playing as a Tundran."

"Like this?" the grunt replied in the terrible forgery of a Tundran accent.

"You know what? Just don't open your mouth."

For fifteen minutes, they continued to be tested by the bitter gales of the blizzard as they trekked further east. They stepped out from the forest and into a path. Then, through the mist of the blizzard, Björn glimpsed several silhouettes walking towards them; Björn caught the noise of a mechanical vehicle coming closer towards them, and as the shadows loomed closer, he also saw a hint of red.

_Alright_, Björn thought. _Time to see if these disguises really works._

"Greeting, comrades," the Tundran peeking out of the turret of the Golikov T-23 light tank spoke aloud over the harsh winds as if he has just come across them down the sidewalk on a nice, sunny day.

As the rest of the Tundran patrol appeared in his sight, Björn gauged the strength of the troops; eight rifle grunts, two missile veterans, two assault veterans, and a light tank, which its commander just greeted him. And on his team: four grunts. Better put on a good show.

"Nasty little snowstorm we have going on here, eh?" the light tank's commander laughed. He or any of the other Tundrans didn't even seem bothered by the weather.

"Uh-huh," Björn replied in his best imitation of a Tundran accent. "Yeah."

"Care to join my battalion, comrades?" the Tundran offered. "We were just beginning the hike back to headquarters."

"No thanks," Björn refused kindly. "I'm just putting these new boys through their paces."

"Ah, I see. Well, don't get lost. It's a pretty thick forest." By the gesture of the tank commander, the Tundran battalion started moving again, and soon enough, they disappeared in the fog. Björn felt like he deflated after letting go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. That was close. The commander could have pressed for major details. Thankfully, the Tundran was careless, as well as stupid.

"See?" Björn said to the same grunt from earlier. "If we were dressed in our Xylvanian uniforms, we would be shot down by now. Peace or no peace, Tundrans aren't exactly fond of us for the lives we'd taken from them in the last two wars. Now come on; it should be up ahead."

They trudged on forward. Björn came across a large opening in the forest, with a decently-sized cave in one corner of the field.

And imprinted in the snowy ground of the cave's entrance were footprints.

"I believe we've found it," Björn concluded as he motioned hand signals to his men. "You and you, cover the entrance. And you two, come with me. DO NOT FIRE until I say so. These people are important."

Two of the grunts stationed themselves at each corner of the entrance, as Björn and the other two grunts gingerly walked in, KA-57s raised.

"Hello?" The echo of Björn's voice carried into the darkness. "Anyone here? We mean you no harm--"

"TUNDRANS!!" A deep voice bellowed.

One of the grunts screamed as a unseen force propelled him backwards, shooting him out of the cave like a cannonball. Several shouts of surprise were heard from the two sentries back at the entrance.

"What the hell?!" Björn screamed. "Stop! Stop, we're not Tundrans, we're--" The words didn't get a chance to leave Björn's mouth before something slammed the second grunt hard against the rocky wall.

As the grunt fell to the ground, Björn saw, in the corner of his eye, two shadows racing towards him; the sentries. Obviously, they picked up on the new threat.

"FIRE, DAMMIT!" The amber gunfire lit up the cave, peppering against rock, dust, and whatever else existed in the cold darkness of the cave.

And in those millisecond-flashes lighting up the tunnel, Björn saw a massive ogre charging at him.

Björn riddled the creature with all the bullets in his ammo clip, and the remaining two grunts besides him followed his example. The ogre groaned in unbearable pain, and slumped to the ground.

"Go check for causalities." The grunts nodded, and went off to check the injuries of their fallen comrades. From one of his many pockets, Björn produced a small flashlight worn with age. He thumbed it on--

"Ah, the now-decreased Kommander Ubel," Björn said as he studied the corpse. "One of Kaiser Vlad's lackeys, back in the days of the VladStag." The prisoner uniform that dressed Ubel's carcass was raggy and dirty, scarred with rips and tears; that in itself proved that Ubel and Vlad was able to survive in the harsh Tundran wilderness for this long.

And speaking of Vlad...

Björn directed the flashlight forward to brighten the insides of the tunnel up ahead, hoping to discover something that may hint at Vlad being here. Maybe the golden armor Kaiser Vlad so often worn during his venerable reign over Xylvania, or his skeletal remains, should Ubel have resorted to cannibalism somehow--

A crimson red light swung out from behind a corner, headed for Björn's head.

Björn ducked to dodge the attacking light, and looked up to see that the light was coming from the head of a staff of incredible technological design. And wielding it was none other then Kaiser Vlad himself.

Björn lashed out with a fist, easily nailing Vlad in the cheek. Not giving Vlad a chance to retaliate, Björn then swung the flashlight in his other hand like a club, smashing it into Vlad's skull. The flashlight shattered into pieces as it blew up in a bright light, leaving the crimson light that emitted from the staff the only light in the cave, illuminating everything in a grim, omimous red grow.

Vlad jabbed the sharp end of the staff at Björn, but he dodged the spear-like end, and gripped the staff with his own hands. Björn tried to wrestle the staff out of Vlad's hands, but the man, as old of age as he was, was considerably well-muscled.

"Cursed Tundran!" Vlad shouted at Björn as the echo of his screams bounced across the grotto's corridors. "I will not let you take all this immeasurable power from my grasp...! Not after all I've given to obtain it!!" Insanity darkened Vlad's eyes, and the red light only made him seem madder.

Then, Björn saw several arms wrap around Vlad's shoulders, and pulled him away from Björn, who ripped the staff away from Vlad. Björn pointed the staff's light towards Vlad's struggling form, to see his men fighting to refrain Vlad from their commander. Björn stepped forward to deliver a mighty punch to Vlad's jaw.

Vlad's bulk fell onto the two soldiers, who stepped asides to let him drop to the ground. Björn studied Vlad's unconscious body for a moment, before asking his men, "How are the others?"

"One is dead," one of the grunts replied, "and the other is severely injured. He won't make the trip back, sir."

Björn grimaced. Two causalities, out of a six-man team. But if they didn't wear Tundran uniforms, they would have been all butchered by that Tundran patrol.

"But we don't leave any Xylvanians behind, private. We bring both their bodies and Ubel's corpse back, along with Vlad, of course." Despite the grunts' goggles and masks concealing their idenity, Björn could tell they were making disgusted faces behind those masks. Björn didn't like the idea of being in a cramped space with corpses for a long time either, but the new leader of Xylvania would frown on their leaving the bodies of fallen companions behind.

But their mission wasn't just to bring Vlad back to Xylvania. Björn shifted his attention away from their discomfort, and to the staff in his hands, studying the graphic details.

Despite its beauty, this piece of art was none other then the super-weapon that wiped the fabled Iron Legion off the face of the world.

The Staff Of Qa-Len.

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**Yeah, sorry for killing Ubel off, but I could not think of a probable use for him in the storyline, what with the new leader of Xylvania and all. Chapter Two will be coming soon! **


	3. Mission 2: Adelmar

**This chapter is somewhat short, but at least it describes the new leader of Xylvania. Enjoy. **

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_Mission 2: Adelmar_

**Xylvania, Nighttime**

**AdelStag (Previously VladStag)**

Björn strode down the ancient hallway in long, quick strides, the Staff of Qa-Len held carefully in his hands. He did not want to keep the leader of the Xylvanians waiting for his personal report and delivery.

As he walked closer to his destination, Björn spotted a Minigun veteran standing erect and still as a statue by a nearby door. Ever since the last two wars leeched their toll off of the Xylvanians, Minigun veterans were but only a precious few now. They were assigned to the security of the AdelStag by the new leader himself as elite guards.

Eventfully, after weaving around countless corridors and stairways, the door to the office of the former Kaiser Vlad came into view. Two Minigun veterans were stationed on both sides, ready to defend against anyone foolish enough to intrude into the room.

Neither of them decided to stop Björn as he opened the door, and stepped into the room.

The office was large, with two medieval-design windows open to let the beautiful moonlight drift in to illuminate the room. Several paintings of former Kaisers were placed on the walls, their faces marked with piercing eyes or arrogant smirks, sometimes both. They all shared one thing in common: the same pale skin all Xylvanians often had.

Across the room, however, the man behind the desk seemed neither arrogant nor intimidating. Rather, he looked like a brilliant, honorable man, worthy of anyone's trust.

How little the Alliance of Nations knew.

"Welcome, Lieutenant Björn," the man spoke. "I believe you have achieved your mission's objective."

"Yes, Adelmar," Björn bowed his head in respect as he presented the Staff to the man known as Adelmar. Calmly, Adelmar took the Staff from Björn's grasp, and handled it in his hands.

"Yes…this is indeed the Staff Of Qa-Len. Excellent, Björn," Adelmar said as he nodded his approval. "The first phase of my plan is complete. I assume you were able to bring the former Kaiser with you?"

"Yes, although we had to give him quite a few bruises," Björn said. "Even though we chained him, he was still a handful."

"Where is he now?"

"Locked away in one of our dungeons."

"And what of his lackey, Ubel?"

"Dead. He attacked us and took out two of my men. We had to kill him to prevent further casualties."

Adelmar shrugged indifferently. "He is—was—of no use to me, anyway. Now," he stood up from his high-backed throne, and begun to walk to the door, "we begin the second phase of my plan."

"Just curiosity, sir," Björn interrupted, "but what is the second phase?" Adelmar smirked a fanged smile.

"A very important part of my plan, Lieutenant Björn. Let's just say that you are to return to Tundra yet again for another mission."

Adelmar halted his stroll to the door to admire the full moon, perfectly bordered by the window. "Ah, the moon is certainly breath-taking tonight," Adelmar commented. "It'll be a while before I see such a sight again." He looked at Björn. "And by then, the world will be tearing it apart yet again."

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**Chapter 3 coming soon!**

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